Saturday in the Park

Saturday in the Park

As we have already established, I am somewhat of a Steelers fan…I have been as long as I can remember.  My Step Dad liked sports…his job actually encompassed it…but that is a blog I am saving for a rainy day.  However, my parents did not like to drive to the games so I rarely got to go.  Queens was too far…even though we lived right on the border…and the Bronx?  Fuggedaboutit. 

My first real Yankee game, one not at Shea, I would drive to myself…in May of 1983…my senior year of high school.  With my first Yankee game under my belt, I now needed to see the Steelers in person.  A week after that Yankee game, the NFL schedules were due out…and there it was.  The game lit up on the page:  Steelers @ Jets Saturday December 10, 1983 12:30 pm.  Not only did I get the Steelers coming to Shea Stadium, but it also was a Saturday game to boot.  The scheduling Gods had answered my prayers.

I was off to college in September of that year.  A few have asked why I chose a university in Pennsylvania…as a matter of fact, why ALL the colleges I applied to were in the Keystone State.  Obviously those who inquired hardly knew me…PA would televise Steeler games on Sunday…what better way to determine my education and my future!  I packed lightly but took a few books, one was my yearbook as I had a hard time letting go…and another was my NFL Bible of Stats…can’t leave home without that!   A good friend from High School had scribbled in my yearbook “I hope you find someone who loves football as much as you…or is deaf”.  I found the former.  My new dormitory neighbor had a bit of a connection…his Dad was a former NFL head coach.  We became fast friends.  As fall headed towards winter, we spent our Sundays studying…oh wait, that wasn’t us!  We were planted in front of the TV from noon to 60 Minutes.  Others would come and go, catching a quarter or 2, but our only movement involved putting beer in and letting beer out.

My football friend’s Dad’s last coaching gig was with the N.Y. Jets, so he had bonds to this team.  He mentioned his loyalties changed year to year, depending on the team the family’s livelihood came from.  I kidded back, same with my Step Dad…but our loyalties changed from game to game.  It was the beginning of November and I subtly mentioned the Saturday Steeler game approaching.  I hoped his Dad still had a few connections left.  It was then I first heard something, something so hideous…so horrendous…that I could not fathom.  At first I thought he was kidding, he had to be.  See, I am usually good at being the butt end of a joke…I will get into that in a future blog.  My friend’s response to my request, “Oh, we can’t go, we have finals on that Saturday”.  Huh?  Weekends were made for Michelob and ME!  I dismissed the statement and filed it away under, "he did not want to disturb his Dad".

Thanksgiving arrived and all our dorm-mates dispersed.  I headed home to familiar friends.  First night back they presented me with the Holy Grail…a ticket to the Steeler/Jets game.  I am in!  I never gave that silly finals talk a thought.  I arrived back at Drexel, ticket in hand.  The semester drew to a close and our finals schedules were posted.  Fortran:  Saturday December 10^th, 11:15 – 1:15.  No, it can’t be!….my pals must have prodded the professor to pull such a prank.  I sought out the schoolteacher and he confirmed…This was no drill.

The game took on even greater importance to me.  Terry Bradshaw, the Steelers future hall of fame quarterback, was returning from injury to play for the first time ALL season.  Even my recently completed English paper, which had to be on a public figure I admired, was on Terry Bradshaw.  I so wanted to see his return in person.  Unfortunately reality was settling in that I would not be attending.  I COULD however watch it on TV.  But wait, the game was at 12:30…the final did not end until 1:15…and by the time I handed my work in, got across campus and to the dorm... it would be almost 2.  I would miss the whole first half of the game!  There was no NFL network back then to show a replay of the game, it was live or not at all.  It was then I took a stand against this Saturday assailant.  I decided I would get as much of the final finished, then exit stage left with enough time to high tail it to the television.  Noon would be my scheduled departure.

Exams where handed out and I had more than my share of #2’s…no time to waste on broken points.  Fortran was my foe that day and the exam consisted of writing 10 programs.  I quickly scribbled as much basic computer gibberish I could for each…hoping to gain points for the obvious.  I went back to the beginning to actually read the questions and fill in the Fortran.  It was at question 6 the bell tolled for me…time to go.  I quickly closed my exam, got up and headed towards the proctor.  What happened next stays embedded in my mind.  400 people looked up and sneered in my direction.  I realized what was happening.  They thought I was actually FINISHED!  That I was such a geeky jerk and I was rubbing it in their faces.  Only my 5 fellow dorm-mates knew of my plan and laughed in amazement…he was REALLY leaving!  THEY knew my exam was nowhere near complete.  On my way out, one friend near the door scoffed…You’re gonna fail.  I responded quietly…Maybe, but I am gonna go drink that case of beer you left in my fridge…touché!

I arrived at my destination just in time to hear that familiar game time music.  My football friend, not a student of Fortran, had my usual spot next to him prepped and ready.  Beer?  I thought you’d never ask.  He had no doubt I would hold to my plan.  The game started and Bradshaw was on fire!  He tossed 2 touchdown passes in the first half and the Steelers took a commanding lead.  Coming back from a commercial break, about an hour into the game…it happened.  “Now in at quarterback for the Steelers…Cliff Stoudt”.  Bradshaw had reinjured his throwing elbow…he would never play another down of football again.

I earned a C that day…however Fortran joined the many Middle Eastern languages to be among the deceased.  I never regretted my decision.  Had I stayed to finish the final, would I have done better…who knows?  What I did know is if I remained, I would have missed Terry Bradshaw’s last foray…his last moment to lead his team…his exclamation point on a hall of fame career.  I was somewhat satisfied with my TV viewing consolation prize.  However, I would later find out from my friends attending the game that it was the best time ever.  They even had their picture show up on the back page of Newsday…

All three of them…next to an empty seat.